


EOD stands for Everyone's a Dumbass and we all know it

by blumenkohl



Category: Time Bombs (Podcast)
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, M/M, Pre-Canon, and a punch in the face, everyone is young and a bit of a bitch, i needed a headcanon baseline, there will be some of that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28088280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumenkohl/pseuds/blumenkohl
Summary: Simon Teller is good at what he does. It's harder to be smug about that, when he finally gets some competition.
Relationships: Robert "Radio Bob" Hansen/Simon Teller
Kudos: 13





	EOD stands for Everyone's a Dumbass and we all know it

It was so early that it still felt like the middle of the night. It was as dark as it ever got and even the air still hung timid and listless, like it wasn’t willing to perform for the handful of people who weren't fast asleep. It was Simon Teller's least favourite shift.  
He never slept in, regardless of his alarm clock, but that was only because his sleep schedule was set in stone. At this unholy hour, he had wasted a perfectly good evening by trying and failing to fall asleep.

He was barely awake, maybe that was why he tried to turn his key in the locker room door for a solid three minutes, before it was opened from the inside. He looked up.  
“It’s open”, said a man Simon had never seen before.  
“Who are you?” There was no intonation behind those words, they were completely flat while he tried to get his brain to start up.”  
“Detective Robert Hansen…. you wanna come in?”  
“You’re the new guy.”  
“You’ve heard of me. Nice.”  
The new guy reached out a hand. It had been a very long time since Teller last felt short. Hansen was uncomfortably tall, square shouldered and had a crooked smile that almost blinded him a little.

Teller ignored the hand - less out of malevolence, and more because his brain didn’t quite register it. After a moment he looked back at Hansen. “You got a jacket, you got a locker… I’m guessing you met the boss.”  
“Jup. Is he always that… like that?”  
“You manage to stick around long enough, you’ll learn that everyone here is… like that.”  
“You can’t have been here for that long, you look hardly older than me and I’m barely legal.”  
Teller looked up from his keychain indignantly and opened his locker. Hansen seemed to get the gist of his look and shrugged. “It’s a compliment. … or something.”  
“Yeah, or something.”  
The new guy had no way of knowing that he’d hit a nerve. At this point, Teller was both too old and too young for his rank and someone always made sure to point that out. He wasn’t a patient man to begin with, and at that point he had run out thoroughly.  
There was an uncomfortable pause that he didn’t love, but it was probably best to let the new guy stew in it for a while.   
With Hawthorne as their CO, he would have to get used to it soon enough.

Teller dropped his phone in the locker like the boss insisted and wrenched out his jacket. There was basically nothing else in there.  
“So, Hansen… Probation?”  
“Oh yeah. Are they… strict about that?”  
When Teller shot him another disapproving look, Hansen was tying back his braids. Good, at least the newbie had that much sense. He wasn’t in a mood to hear Hawthornes yelling that morning. “That’s the point.”  
Apparently his tone had been more irritated than he intended, because Hansen eyed him like he was already trying to figure out how to diffuse a particularly stubborn explosive. “Right, any tips then?”  
“Don’t get blown up.”  
“I’ll keep it in mind.”  
They weighed each other for a moment and there was a tense silence. When the moment passed, Simon still wasn’t any more certain about the kind of man he was dealing with. It gave him a headache. He shouldn’t have skipped breakfast, but who could eat at this time?  
Finally he sighed and shook his head. “Alright, come on. I’ll show you the van, but we need to stop by the break room, get some coffee.”  
“That is the best thing I have heard all day.”  
“Of course it is, it’s barely four…”

He had unwittingly begun a conversation, and he wasn’t sure if he regretted it, yet. Hansen was more chipper than he had any right to be and it put him on edge. His good mood was only broken when Teller handed him a cup of coffee. He took a sip and then winced and stared at it, as though it had bitten him. When he poured it down the sink and rinsed the mug, Teller smirked into his own coffee. A couple of late nights and the kid would get used to it. He just wasn’t broken in yet.  
“I hear you transferred from somewhere?”  
“If you’d like to call it that. I’m from Torrrington, Sir.”  
“Wyoming? I didn’t know people actually lived there.”  
“They don’t-” Hansen sounded like there was more to the joke, but he hesitated and tilted his head in a peculiar way, as though he was weighing his words very carefully. Teller couldn’t help but smirk and held out a hand. “Simon Teller. You don’t have an accent at all.”  
“But you do. I just… can’t exactly place it.”  
“And you never will.”  
Hansen grinned at him, he didn’t seem snubbed in the slightest. Still all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, really made him wonder what was up with that.

They stepped outside a few minutes later. The world was still silent, save for the faint applause of trees rustling in the wind and crumbly leaves scraping lightly down the pavement. Hansen held up a hand in his approximate direction and smiled. It looked bright and warm and almost sincere. “Alright, old man. Time not to get blown up.”  
Teller pulled a little face and followed him. He wasn’t sure if he already disliked this cooperation, or if he was worried that he enjoyed it a little too much. He had never worked with anyone younger than him, and definitely never with anyone who radiated that much energy. Someone probably needed to take that guy down a notch.


End file.
